


let's be quiet for now

by arghmuffin



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BluePaint, Book 2: Earth (Avatar), Canon Compliant, F/M, ZK Drabble December 2020, ish but not really, kind of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:13:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27855706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arghmuffin/pseuds/arghmuffin
Summary: Zuko doesn't know what he wants, but he knows this; the way the moonlight catches on her face, the lilt of her laugh, makes him want to hold her until the sun sets again.Day 1 and 2 of ZKDD: Nightfall, Please Don't Lie
Relationships: Blue Spirit/Painted Lady, Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 35
Collections: ZK Drabble December 2020





	1. nightfall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not me posting this about two days late lol
> 
> I went a little over the word count, sorry. I guess it's more like a oneshot-ish? Originally, it went on much longer but I had to restrain myself.
> 
> Thank you to the loveliest people in the world @princess_zel and @antarcticas for hosting this! Enjoy!

/

It’s under a starry night, dimly lit up by the lights of Lower Ring Ba Sing Se citizens, that the Painted Lady meets the Blue Spirit for the first time.

This is both a truth and a lie, of course.

/

 _The Painted Lady is a gentle, kind healer,_ the peasants whisper among themselves, picking at bruised fruit and avoiding the ears of the ever-present Dai Li. _The caregiver of all sick, injured children, the ghost who can make miracles happen with her mere touch._

It’s a quiet night, tonight. There is the occasional chatter, a few loud giggles echoing across the sky, but the fear of the Dai Li is stronger than the spirits of simple Lower Ring citizens, and a muffled blanket sets over this part of the city.

Above them, the Painted Lady glides smoothly on the rooftops, sticking close to the shadows. After Jang Hui, she adopted a more appropriate costume; plain, black clothing instead of her heavy brown cloak, although her signature veil and red face paint had remained the same, making her easily recognizable to those she crossed.

Suddenly, a flash of a blue grin, the glint of a silver dao sword. The Painted Lady tilts her head in acknowledgement at the Blue Spirit, who lands silently beside her on the roof of a struggling orphanage.

 _We can work together,_ the Painted Lady had said in her low, gravelly voice, the first time they ran into each other. When she was at the hospital, healing the wounded, and he was stealing from the nobility, giving to the poor. _The people need us both._

He hadn’t responded then, only nodded. The Blue Spirit has never been heard using his voice.

Tonight, the pair slips inside the orphanage’s entrance, armed with a sack of food and a hidden waterskin. They are allies, nothing more, and they have so much to fix.

/

 _The Blue Spirit is a giver,_ you can sometimes hear shop merchants telling customers, leaning in as if to share a conspiratorial joke. _He provides for those who cannot, and gives the bountiful money owned by the greedy to the poor. He, the infamous vigilante, who offers justice and equality to the overworked, underpaid people of the Lower Ring._

“Here, I brought some tea,” Zuko holds up a teapot awkwardly, voice muffled slightly by his mask. There’s one of Uncle’s favorite blends in it, and he also has two small teacups, slightly chipped from frequent use.

“That sounds great!” the Painted Lady replies happily, all illusions of a gravelly voice gone. They sit on one of their favorite rooftops together, hiding in the shadows and watching the city lights below. Soft whispers are punctuated by quiet laughs, and, occasionally, a snort.

“I have to leave Ba Sing Se soon,” she says suddenly, and they both go quiet, staring down at the half-empty teacups that occupy their hands.

Zuko knows this, of course, through the painfully fresh memories of a chained sky bison, and his uncle, yelling at him in a way he never has before. His uncle, telling him to look within himself, and ask himself the important questions. _Who are you, Prince Zuko? And what do you want?_

He couldn’t let go of his mask, not yet, not when there was still so much to do, not when he still had these moments of freedom with _her_. Because there was only one waterbender he knew possessed the talent of the Painted Lady, the same voice, and the same fierce, yet gentle spirit, and when he was with her he couldn’t bring himself to care about anything else.

“I’ll— Ba Sing Se will be okay,” he answers cautiously, swallowing the last of his tea in a large gulp. Katara watched him intently from the side, as if waiting for something; a right answer, maybe. “I… I understand.”

Then, a breath of relief so small he would’ve missed it, had he not known. There is a kind of mutual understanding between them, silent and unspoken, but still there none the less. 

Because Katara knows Zuko is the Blue Spirit and she does not resent him for it. (This means more to Zuko than he will ever know.)

They spend the rest of the night absorbing each other’s company, reluctant to let each other go. Because at night, with her veil and his mask, they can pretend they are not enemies, but partners, _friends_. Katara can forget the way he tied her to a tree, the way he dangled her mother’s necklace, and he can forget about his history with the Avatar, and the time she froze him up to his neck in the North Pole. 

Zuko does not know what he wants, but he knows this; the way the moonlight catches on her face, the lilt of her laugh, makes him want to hold her until the sun sets again.

But when the first rays of light are set to peek over the horizon, they reluctantly part ways, unable to stick around for when they are enemies once more.

_Only at night._

/

Four long, devastating whips, made from opposing elements, battle each other on the opposite sides of a river.

“I thought you had changed!” Katara cries out, eyes shining with tears of betrayal. He could hear the unspoken sentiment in her words: _I thought we were friends. I thought you were good now. I thought you said Ba Sing Se was going to be okay._

(It is close, but not night, not yet.)

Staring at Katara, Zuko couldn’t help but think of all the people they helped in the quiet of the dark, the smell of his Uncle’s tea, and the smears of red paint sometimes caught in her hair. It’s almost enough to make him falter, but he manages to push down the heavy, sick feeling in his gut, screaming _wrong wrong wrong._

“I have changed,” he tells her, and it’s the truth. 

(The moon is almost out, and his resolve nearly wavers. But it’s not enough, because his longing for home, for his father’s approval, burns bright and blinding, hot enough to overcome even Azula’s flame. And, as it turns out, he has always been his own sun.)

 _No one knows why the Painted Lady and Blue Spirit disappeared,_ the owner of a small tea shop smiled mysteriously, eyes twinkling at his customer. _But they do say that one day, the spirits will reunite again, under the cover of the night. And even the full moon will stop her descent to watch them._

/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BluePaint gives me so many Miraculous vibes... :)))
> 
> Did you catch the last part about the full moon and how the Southern Raiders was during the full moon and that's when they "reunited"? Lol me neither
> 
> I'm on Tumblr @arghmuffin!


	2. please don't lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko can never say no to Katara, so instead, he says, "Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of hate this but I'm so late I don't even care anymore alksdjflk
> 
> This is also a lot shorter than the last one, I managed to restrain myself :))

“Who are you really, Blue?” Katara looks up at him searchingly, brows furrowed. His heart stops in chest for a second, before resuming at twice its usual speed.

(It wasn’t supposed to be this way. They weren’t supposed to know each other’s identities, especially now, especially when she was Katara and he was Zuko. Her hat wasn’t supposed to fall off during a scuffle, and he wasn’t supposed to whisper her name in surprise, loud enough for her to overhear. _It wasn’t supposed to be this way.)_

She takes a step forward, and he freezes in place, unable to bring himself to move.

“Are you…” she nervously licks her lips, probably a force of habit, and he wonders absently if she can taste the bitterness of her paint. “... Z-Zuko?”

His heart drops to his stomach, and his eyes go wide behind his mask, the only visible sign of surprise his entire body stiffening. He can vaguely register her hand reaching towards his face, the _left_ side of his face, before he jolts back to reality.

Taking a deep breath, he goes to shake his head, but her next words stop him in his tracks.

“Please don’t lie to me,” Katara whispers, face pained, and he can feel his heart cracking under his black clothing, falling in place at her feet. “Please.”

And with that, the last of his resolve crumbles, left to the chilly Ba Sing Se breeze. 

Zuko can never say no to Katara, so instead he says, “Okay,” and grips the edge of his mask, pulling it down. 

“Okay,” he repeats, not as the Blue Spirit, but as Zuko, and Katara smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok its like january and i was going to do more, but it just. didn't work out? lol im so sorry. have a good day!


End file.
